Egotism and Judgementalism: Why It’s So Hard to Love

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston and walked timidly without an appointment into the Harvard University President’s outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no business at Harvard and probably didn’t even deserve to be in Cambridge. “We’d like to see the president,” the man said softly.

“He’ll be busy all day,” the secretary snapped.

“We’ll wait,” the lady replied. For hours the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away. They didn’t, and the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted.

“Maybe if you see them for a few minutes, they’ll leave,” she said to him! He sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn’t have the time to spend with them, and he detested gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.

The president, stern faced and with dignity, strutted toward the couple. The lady told him, “We had a son who attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. My husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus.”

The president wasn’t touched. He was shocked. “Madam,” he said, gruffly, “we can’t put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died.. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery.”

“Oh, no,” the lady explained quickly. “We don’t want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard.”

The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, and then exclaimed, “A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical buildings here at Harvard.”

For a moment the lady was silent. The president was pleased. Maybe he could get rid of them now. The lady turned to her husband and said quietly, “Is that all it costs to start a university? Why don’t we just start our own?” Her husband nodded. The president’s face wilted in confusion and bewilderment.

Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford got up and walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they established the university that bears their name, Stanford University, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

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Do you ever encounter people that you know, who won’t say hello or good Shabbos to you, or even look you in the eye, while try as you might, you can’t think of what you have ever done to them. In fact you know for certain that you’ve never done them any wrong?

Are there people; perhaps even people of considerable status; in leadership positions that hold themselves out to be upright and high-minded, often in a religious sense, who treat you like a persona-non-grata for no explicable reason that you could possibly imagine?

Anyone who has experienced this type of treatment knows that it is a serious and cruel form of passive aggression and that the persons who act this way are far less righteous and high-minded than they might think of themselves.

It would really be nice to believe that as humans we need some deep compelling reason for our dislike towards others, but the sobering reality is that it isn’t quite so. It doesn’t really take very much to find fault with our fellow race members. What I’m about to say may sound cynical on my part, (go-head call me twisted) but I tend to think that the human temperament is such that we actually need a reason to like our fellow man in order for us not to hate him.

In other words, the default state of our natural (animal) inclination is to reject the next guy. He must win us over, in order for us not to dislike him. It is interesting that as I write these words I search my mind for a term that describes the neutral or benign – neither like or dislike – attitude towards an associate, yet nothing comes to mind. Can the reason for this be because there is no such phenomenon?

The closest word that comes to mind is “Indifference,” but that doesn’t really describe the construct. To be indifferent means not to care about the subject. Must I be indifferent to someone in order not to like or dislike him? Why isn’t there an adjective that describes the “Casual” feelings towards fellow man, kind of like the word “Acquaintance” with regards to relationships?

There are “Friends,” there are “Strangers” and then there is something in between; acquaintances. An acquaintance is not a great friend but neither is he a stranger. It implies a casual sort of relationship. Where is the equivalent adjective with regards to man’s emotional status towards his fellow man? What I’m suggesting is that perhaps there is none. This means that we either like or dislike the people we know, kind of like the notorious mindset: “If you’re not for me you’re against me.”

The possible reason for this approach towards others is that we view each person entering our lives as a threat and thus treat them with initial rejection, somewhat like the rejection process which the body produces towards any foreign object. Until such time that the “Intruder” relaxes our paranoia; our natural defense mechanism, either by deliberately demonstrating his loyalty, or by inadvertently exposing his weakness and vulnerability and thereby establishing our superiority, we reject him.

So, often to be liked requires to be seen as inferior or to make oneself inferior by subordinating oneself to the one whose recognition is being sought, as a wise man once said: “If someone isn’t what others want them to be, the others become angry. Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives.”

Many in fact, go through life giving up pieces of themselves so as to gain the love and acceptance of such individuals.  Along the way their true identity often becomes distorted and confused, which in turn causes all kinds of psychological problems. But is that really the way it is meant to be? Is that the way love is meant to be bestowed and acquired?

The Talmud asserts that one of the primary causes of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash – Holy Temple was Sinas Chinam — baseless hatred and animosity, Yoma 9b. We are hence instructed that Ahavas Chinam – baseless love is needed in order to correct the sin and bring an end to the long and bitter Galus – exile.

Yet the terms Sinas Chinam — baseless hatred and Ahavas Chinam – baseless love seem perplexing. What is the meaning of “Chinam,” baseless, or more accurately “Free?” Why would anyone hate without reason and what sense does free love, or love without reason, make? The former seems senseless and unreasonably cruel, while the latter sounds exceedingly flaky, like something out of the sixties. However, in light of our previous analysis of the way human nature operates these terms make a lot of sense.

As stated, we tend to like or love others only after they pay the price of assuaging our paranoia of their potential threat to our fragile egos, so in that regard our love is hardly ever free or unconditional, hence the Talmudic dictum regarding the need for “Free love.” The latter is true concerning hate as well. As stated, it is not below our human nature to dislike or hate a person just because of his or her independent mind and lack of subservience, which we interpret as a menace to our superiority and station in life.  Accordingly, our hate is indeed baseless and indiscriminate.

The Talmudic claim of Sinas Chinam as a destructive cancer and cause for our spiritual demise is hence no longer the mystery it appeared to be; it is rather a common manifestation of our natural animal inclination that must be overcome. The call for Ahavas Chinam is likewise a very pertinent factor in ending the dark and dreary exile, since its antithesis is so common a practice.

But there is more to the prevailing syndrome of Sinas Chinam that must be uprooted; namely, our tendency to prejudge others. We often fool ourselves in thinking that we can know a person’s character after a few moments of observation, yet in truth we have no idea where his life began or how his saga has unfolded. To judge him at a glance is like reading one page in an open book, believing it’s enough to confidently recite the story from beginning to end. True, one page may say a lot, but not nearly enough to accurately critique a book or evaluate a life.

How different would our world be if we stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people we encounter? When we find ourselves considering withholding help, or love, or support for another for whatever the reason, we ought to ask a simple question: do the reasons we want to withhold it reflect more on them or on us? Our job is not to judge. Our job is not to figure out if someone deserves something. Feelings could override facts, as facts could alter feelings. Choose the truth first, rather than follow feelings.

People who are quick to judge often don’t take the time to try and understand what it takes to be in the other’s situation. It really hurts when someone looks down on you and treats you like you’re not worth their effort for whatever the reason or justification in their mind might be. When we judge others it is usually because we’re unhappy with ourselves. So judging others is just a reflection of our own inner unhappiness and insecurity, no matter how strong and successful we may appear on the outside.

This is not to say that one should not have opinions. By no means does Judaism espouse that we ought to tolerate abuse; accept dangerous people or situations and not deal with detrimental influences in our lives. Certainly a degree of judgment or assessment must always be present to create a peaceful and healthy life for ourselves. Rather, this is about the judgment of character and motive rather than of actions. We need less judgment and more love.

To love a man enough to help him, we have to forfeit the self-righteous glow that comes from judging. No one has it all figured out, especially not the people who act like they do and judge others because of it. None of us has ever seen a motive, therefore we don’t know; we can only suspect what inspires the action of others. For this reason we’re told not to judge. When we perceive people as the sum of their behaviors rather than a soul with a mission to fulfill, we deny them the growth and potential with which G-d had bestowed them. “An arrogant person,” said one wise man,” Is always looking down on others, so of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see that which is above you.”

A good friend once lamented to me that certain people insist on defining him by who he was thirty years ago as a teenager and refuse to accept him for who he has become. “Do they view themselves the same way,” he questioned. Most of us see ourselves as a work-in-progress and we ought to perceive others in the same light.

Our Parsha, Masei, relates that “Aharon the Kohen went up to Mount Hor at the word of G-d and died there… in the fifth month on the first of the month,” 33:38.

The question that arises is, the passing of Aharon has already been recorded several portions earlier, in Parshas Chukas, 20:22 – 29, why then is it mentioned here again? It is also noteworthy that while our Parsha relates the date of Aharon’s passing, in Chukas there is no mention of this detail.

The way this is explained is that Aharon passed away on Rosh Chodesh Menachem Av, which is in the middle of the three-week period, known as “Bein Hameitzarim — Between the straits,” the time of year in which we find ourselves now, that commemorates the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash – Holy Temple. Since Parshas Masei is always read in the middle of the three weeks and very close to, or on, Rosh Chodesh Menachem Av, therefore it is appropriate to recall his passing and the date in this Parsha.

As stated above, one of the primary causes of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash was Sinas Chinam — baseless hatred and animosity. As we recall the passing of Aharon, it is particularly important to note the connection between the time of year of his passing – as well as its recital – and the legendary characteristics for which he was famous: “The lover of piece and pursuer of peace, lover of fellow creatures and [the practice of] bringing them closer to the Torah,” Avos 1:12.

It has all been made to coincide so that we come, during this particular time of year, to reflect upon Aharon’s love for his fellow Jews and to endeavor to emulate him through the love of peace and pursuit of peace.

Through true Ahavas Yisrael we will speedily merit the rebuilding of the Temple with the coming of the righteous Moshiach BBA.